


what if you stayed

by dianawrayburn



Category: The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 16:30:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20028862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianawrayburn/pseuds/dianawrayburn
Summary: An alternate universe in which Johnny Rook never died, Kit is sent to the Shadowhunter Academy, and descendants of the first heir aren’t so hard to come across.So basically a dramatic Kit and Ty high school AU.





	what if you stayed

The door of Kit Rook’s bedroom swung open, the jarring sound of the doorknob colliding with the splintered wall sent him clambering out of bed. A life like his had taught him to sleep lightly. To always be prepared for a fight—the worst of which always happened when it was least expected.

Blinking the drowsiness from his eyes, Kit searched around the room, bathed in early morning sunlight, to find his father standing in the doorway. He was wearing the same clothes he had worn the day before and had a duffle bag clutched so tightly in his hand that Kit could see his knuckles whiten from across the room.

This was how life was like with his father. Selling secrets and making cons, running away and starting all over again.

Rising at daybreak and being whisked away had become so routine that the thought of doing it once more stirred nothing but indifference inside him. Maybe he had gotten that from his father, Johnny Rook cared about nothing but making money and staying hidden.

But Johnny didn’t look indifferent now. His typically sun tanned skin was pale and there were lines carved into his forehead like creased clay. Kit’s father was never a tidy man, but he was more rumpled than usual, it looked like he hadn’t slept at all.

“Dad?” Kit asked, unease settling in the pit of his stomach.  
We—,” Johnny began, sweeping a strand of graying hair out of his eyes in a hesitant, strained motion. “We don’t have much time, you must listen to me,” His voice was wavering and unsure. Kit’s father was never unsure.

“What is it? Dad? Tell Me.”  
“I’m sending you to Idris.”  
“What,” Kit spluttered. He was sure of what his father had said, but he couldn’t begin to comprehend what it meant. Johnny silenced Kit’s rising protest with a wave of his hand as he strode over to the closet, swinging open the door to pile all of its contents in a duffle bag he had brought with him. Kit, stupefied and scared, did nothing but watch.

“There are people much more dangerous than the Nephilim that would kill to get their hands on you. You’re safest with the shadowhunters.”

Kit opened his mouth to speak, but shut it quickly, anything and everything he wanted stayed stuck in his throat. He had been raised on a hatred of the Nephilim. He was taught of their cold mercy and bitter laws. Kit could tell a disguised shadowhunter from nothing but their purpose filled gait and the air of superiority that clung to them like sweat. Kit had always felt as if Johnny cared more about keeping him away from shadowhunters than he cared about Kit himself. The running and hiding that left it’s undeniable mark on Kit’s life had all been to hide from the shadowhunters, his father handing him over was unfathomable.

With the duffle in his hand, Johnny crossed the room to Kit who had sat down on his bed, trying unsuccessfully to understand. He placed firm hands on Kit’s shoulders.  
“This is important, you must do everything I say. Are you listening?” Kit nodded, his concentration focused on keeping his shaking hands still. Showing fear and vulnerability was a sign of weakness; a spotlight on a man’s breaking point.

“Outside right now is a portal created by Hypatia Vex that will send you straight to the Shadowhunter Academy. You will take your things, go through the portal and find Catarina Loss.” Johnny held out a letter, creased and crumpled, to him. “You’ll give this to her and she will tell you what to do. You’re going to study there until I come and get you and for god’s sake don’t do anything stupid.”

“What about you?” The more Kit tried to hide the fear coating his voice, the more weak and childlike he sounded.  
“Don’t worry about me. Hey, look at me.” Johnny forced Kit’s head up with the tips of fingers to meet Kit’s gaze with his own. “Be safe. Just because I’m sending you to the shadowhunters doesn’t mean I trust them one bit.” Then he dropped his hand, turned on his heels, and left.

Once when he was locked away in their basement when one of his father’s clients was over, he read a book about other universes. Universes where one thing changed and as a result, the entire world became a different place. He would dream of different worlds, universes outside his own where everything was different. One where his mother had never died and all three of them lived in a little home by the sea. Maybe in another world he would have screamed and cried and thrown a fit. He would have run after his dad and knelt on the carpet, begging him to let Kit stay. But in this world his mother had died, there would be no begging and he would go to the academy.

Swinging the bag over his arm, Kit strode out of his room. He didn’t dare look anywhere but what was in front of him as he passed through the halls of the house. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep moving if he stopped, so he didn’t. It wasn’t until he stood on the bottom steps of the porch where the air gave way to spiraling portal, that he looked back.

Kit had lived slept in so many rooms that he was never quite sure where he was in the first moments after waking up. He knew that wherever he was, he would eventually have to leave. It was inevitable so he learned to never get attached. But as he looked back at his house washed in the light of the rising sun, he felt as if he was saying goodbye to Los Angeles for good. He shook himself as to shake off the feeling of grief that had settled into his chest and the burning of unshed tears in his eyes. He had done this before, he would do it again. With one last look, he took a step into the portal. This was just the way it was, the way it would always be. He would wander to the ends of the Earth, but he would never find a place to call home.

…

The portal spat him out onto a sprawling lawn of meticulously groomed grass. Kit could feel the pulse of his heart beating in his head as his body was racked with lurching shudders. The temperature must have been twenty degrees colder than it was in Los Angeles. Although it was not yet cold enough to snow, the leaves had goldened and the wind was wrought with bitterness that signified the winter that would soon come. He had been through portals before, but there was something fundamentally different about this one. It was almost as if he would feel himself passing through the wards.

Scrambling to his feet, Kit found himself standing only feet away from the Academy. The turrets of the castle cast long shadows across the rolling hills that surrounded it. Above the iron gates, carved into the stone archway were words in a language he couldn’t read but nonetheless they sent shivers dancing up his spine. Surrounding the campus was the Brostliend forest, its brilliant foliage looked so pure as if it had never been touched by mankind, a home to downworlders who had lived there since before the beginning of time. Through squinted eyes, Kit could even see the demon towers. Giant colossus that guarded the Nephilim and their homes.

In the mere seconds Kit had let his guard down, he was shoved back against the wall of the Academy, the stone exterior digging into his back. Panic bloomed in his chest as he seized for the knife he kept tucked into the waistband of his pants, but all to quickly there was a hand on his chest and a dagger wreathed in pale light resting at the base of his throat. A seraph blade.

In front of him stood a boy with messy black hair that curled at his temples and delicate yet sharp features. In the light of the seraph blade, everything about him looked sharp: his bony hands, his lithe body and eyes the color of cooling steel. Kit was so unprepared, so caught off guard that for a moment all he could do was stare. The boy was striking in a way that made him unsure of weather the lightheaded feeling that flooded his mind was fear or awe.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Those words, smooth and confident, were all it took to pull Kit out of his daze. Suddenly he was all too aware of the singing power of the seraph blade that threatened to cut through his throat and the curling runes that peaked from under the boy’s shirt, branding him as one of the angel’s. He had always thought he would know what to do if a shadowhunter ever grabbed him but right then he felt unsure and undone.

Quickly, almost as if was never there, whatever he had felt before was washed away by boiling anger. Anger for the Nephilim that had been brewing within him for years and was just now was threatening to spill.  
“None of your business. I belong here just as much as you do.”  
“But you don’t,” the boy contradicted, his voice cool, as if he knew something Kit didn’t.  
“And what makes you think that?” Kit tried to match the boy’s surety with his own.

The boy’s gaze flew from Kit’s head, to his arms, to his feet. He dropped the seraph blade to the ground and took a deep breath as to prepare for a speech.  
“First of all, you were looking around as if you’ve never seen the place, you’re wearing shorts in 40 degree weather and you smell like magic. Chances are you’ve just traveled through a portal. You haven’t got any runes, not even the basic ones so you can’t be a shadowhunter. From the looks of it you had no trouble seeing through the glamour on the Academy and you weren’t that freaked out when I pulled a blade on you so chances are you aren’t a mundane either. So tell me,” the boy said, eyes alight with excitement, “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Woah Sherlock,” Kit said, noting the way the boy perked up when he said that. “Have you ever heard the saying ‘curiosity killed the cat?”  
“Yes. But satisfaction brought it back.” The boy’s lips curled upward in a small smirk so the tips of his teeth showed, he was pleased with himself.  
“What?”  
“That's the rest of the proverb. ‘Curiosity killed the cat and satisfaction brought it back’” Kit couldn’t help rolling his eyes, shadowhunters; they always think they’re better than everyone else.

“Now answer my question,” the boy said, lifting an arm to press Kit back against the wall.  
“How about you tell me who you are instead.”  
“I asked first.”  
“Well I asked second.” The boy let out a little laugh behind his smile, quick and sweet, and Kit felt his stomach drop as if the ground had fallen way beneath him.  
“I’m Tiberius Blackthorn.” Kit had heard of the Blackthorns, they ran the institute in Los Angeles.  
“Well Tiberius Blackthorn,” Kit said, “how about you make yourself useful and bring me to Catarina Loss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked the first chapter !! I’m working on the second one right now, it will be updated when i finish. although this fic is for fun, i’m always looking to improve my writing so please leave a comment with any constructive criticism <33


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